The Choice
by the-shiny-girl
Summary: In a world where nothing matters anymore, what would you choose? Life or death?


**A CHOICE**

Hermione Granger sat in her dark room, shaking from head to toe. Tonight was the night. She was about to recieve her first client. She still could not believe what was happening and what she was doing. She was about to give her body for money. Her hand quickly covered her mouth as she felt sick simply at the thought of it. Yes, she was working in a brothel. Hermione Granger was a … a lady of the evening. Woman of the night. A whore. A prostitute. As the words kept on forming in her mind, she realized she hated being smart and knowing that many words. Her own mind was now hurting her, offending her.

But it was not her fault. She did not want this life. She was forced into it. Tears welled up in her eyes as she remembered how it all started. Her life started going downhill the day the unthinkable happened. The day when Voldemort won. The day when the great Harry Potter lost. It was never supposed to end like that. Not once in her life had Hermione thought there was a chance they would lose. It was not even an option in her naive mind. Good _always_ defeated evil. It was supposed to be like that. But it wasn't. Good people were dying. Death Eaters were celebrating their victory and she _ran_. It was all she could do. She was too much of a coward to stay there and fight until the end. Accept death with bravery in her eyes. No, she was too scared.

And even now, a few weeks later, she was still on the run. What she was living…it could not even be called life. Always hiding, always terrified that someone might recognize her. She was without her wand, she was without any money. She was starving most of the time. And then one day she realized what was her only option. She needed money, she needed a place to stay and she needed to be doing something that no one would expect of her.

That is how she ended up in a brothel. The _Black Broomstick_. How pathetic. They could at least have thought of a more original name.

After a few days without any real food Hermione finally decided. She found a brothel, went to the woman that was in charge,_ Madam Jacqueline_ and asked, no, _begged_ her to take her as one of her girls. Surprisingly the woman did not ask questions and gave her the job, saying she was in need of young, innocent looking girls. The men love it.

Hermione almost turned and ran away after Madam said that, but she forced herself to stay put. She would not survive outside.

And it was not that horrible. She got her own room, she got food. Madam did not expect her to recieve clients right away. She gave her a few days to adjust, talk with other girls, prepare herself. She knew Hermione did not have a lot of experience in that department, but what she didn't know was that Hermione had no experience at all. And Hermione never told her that. She was afraid she would not get accepted if they know she was still a virgin. And she needed the job so much.

The other girls were nice to her. Some were her age, the others were older. Some hated what they were doing, some even liked it. They were all there on their free will. It was their life now and they accepted it. Hermione needed to accept it too. That brothel was one of the classier ones. The clients were only men from high society. Men who had a lot of money. Hermione had heard horror stories about prostitutes, about the way they were being handled, but that did not seem to be the case in the Black Broomstick. Madam Jacqueline knew most of the clients, she was protective of her girls. One could forget that she was selling them for money.

Hermione looked at the clock. It was almost midnight. Her client should be here any minute now. That thought sent shivers down her body. What would he be like?

Madam Jacqueline told her she had nothing to fear. The man was a regular visitor and there was never a complaint against him. The other girls have told her that he always turned the lights off so they barely saw him. He was tall and dark, older man. He rarely spoke and he was known for leaving a huge tip. Hermione wanted to ask them what his preferences in bed were, but then changed her mind. She did not want to know.

_"He is not too demanding. He is the best choice for you until you don't get used to it," Madam said to her._

_Hermione simply nodded her head, doing her best to hide the fear in her eyes. _

As she waited in the dark, Hermione looked down at herself and cringed. She was wearing a black corset that hugged her form and pushed her assets up, making her blush in embaressment.

_You can do this, Hermione. Just breath. Just-_

She jumped in surprise as the doors opened and a man in long dark robes entered. He was as the other girls described him. He closed the doors behind him and Hermione's fear only grew. What was she expected to do? Would he tell her?

She slowly got up from the bed, feeling ridiculus in what she was wearing. At least he liked to be in the dark as well. _He_? She realized she had forgotten to ask about his name. Not that it mattered anyway.

Was she allowed to speak? Maybe she could ask him –

"I have paid for the whole night," he said, interrupting her thoughts.

Hermione opened her mouth in shock. She did not expect that. No, no, no. That was too long. She expected a few hours the most. Not the whole night!

_Breathe. Just breathe._

Hermione hugged herself with her arms, waiting. She could not even look at him. She could tell he was removing his robes.

"They told me you were new here," he said to her, making his way to the bed where she was standing. Why was he talking to her? The other girls told her he rarely spoke. And his voice…it was so familiar to her. Then she realized he was probably expecting her to answer him.

"Y-Yes, I am new here, " she stuttered, then quickly added, "Sir."

The men approached her and Hermione closed her eyes. She did not want to look at him. If she could only make it through it all without looking at him. It would make it less real. He would not be able to haunt her in her nightmares.

The moment his hands touched her, Hermione tensed, not able to relax. His hands were warm against her cold body. She wondered if he noticed she was sivering terribly. If he had, he simply decided to ignore it. His hands traveled up her arms, caressing her skin and Hermione forced herself to touch him back. Her hands found their way to his shirt, unbuttoning it.

"Lie down on the bed," he instructed her and she obeyed.

A moment later he was on top of her, his body pressing hers into the matress. Hermione bit her tongue to prevent a scream. She did not want this. It disgusted her. At least he did not kiss her. Hermione did not know if she could handle that.

"Spread your legs."

It was a simple order, but Hermione it was enough to make her break. A small cry escaped her lips, but she stopped herself before she fell into hysterical crying.

"Are you …crying?" he asked, surprise in his voice.

Hermione swollowed hard and forced out:"No. Get on with it."

And without a second thought he continued. Her corset was gone in the next few minutes, but she tried not to think about it. Forcing herself to remove his shirt, she turned her head to the right. But then she saw something that almost made her heart stop. He had the Dark Mark on his forearm. Her blood ran cold at that realization. The Death Eaters were looking for her and now she was alone in the room with one.

She was terrified. She could not think. She almost could not breath.

But he had not recognized her, maybe if she played her part well, he would not notice. With that thought in her mind she undid his belt and unziped his pants. That was the furthest she could go. Her hands were shaking too much, she could not go on.

His hands moved up to her breasts, his touch a bit rougher now. Hermione could not take it. She was sick, she felt dirty. How could she be doing this with a complete stranger? A Death Eater no less? When his hand slid down, slowly finding it's way between her legs, she clenched her thighs together.

"Stop," it was meant to be a scream, but it came out as a pathetic whisper.

"Please," she tried again, pushing the man off of her, but he did not move away. Neither did his hand between her legs. Hermione was panicking, she did not care if he recognized her. She would even let him kill her. She simply did not care anymore.

"Get off of me," she tried again, "Please…I-I can't…"

She tried to keep her sobs inside of her, but failed miserably. How pathetic it must have seemed. She was laying naked with a man on top of her, with his hand still between her legs and she was sobbing. Sobbing in front of a Death Eater.

She thought she could do this. But she was wrong. She was not strong enough. She would not be able to to it. _Never_.

Slowly she was starting to panic, because the man was not letting her go. _Surely he wouldn't force me, would he?_ Those kind of things did not happen in this brothel. But maybe he was angry she rejected him.

_Oh god._

But before Hermione could scream for help, the man removed himself from her, leaving her crying form on the bed. She did not even cover herself. She was beyond caring. This was the end of her life. Either the Death Eater will recognize her and kill her or she would get kicked out of the brothel. And she could not survive being on the streets again.

"I knew you did not have it in you, Granger."

Hermione froze at his words. _Granger_. He knew who she was. Strangly that did not frighten her as much as she expected it. It gave her a strange feeling of calmness.

"In all my years of knowing you, I never expected you to end up in this kind of place."

Before Hermione had a chance to register what he said, the lights turned on. She screamed as she recognized the man in front of her.

_Professor Snape._

She quickly pulled the covers over her body, hiding herself from his gaze.

"Do not scream, silly girl! They will think I am torturing you!" he hissed, taking a step closer to the bed.

Hermione was speechles. She could not believe what was happening and she could not tear her eyes away from him. She never expected to see her Professor like this. Without his shirt on, his belt undone and his pants unzipped.

How could it be _him_ of all people? How could it be_ Seveus Snape_, the traitor, the man responsible for everything that happened to the Wizarding World, for everything that happened to _her_?

She wipped away her tears and stared at him. She did not even have the energy to insult him, to tell him everything she wanted to since the day he betrayed them. She could not even look at him angrily. She was too tired, too humilliated. She had almost slept with her former Professor.

"Cat got your tongue, Miss Granger?" he asked silky, not breaking eye contact with her.

"What…." she started, but her voice betrayed her.

Snape simply raised an eyebrow in amusement.

Hermione tried again:"What are you going to do with me?"

"I have not decided yet," he answered matter-of-factly.

"Are you…are you going to rape me?" she asked quietly, not able to look away from his dark eyes. They stared at each other for a long moment before Snape broke the connection.

"No," he answered coldly and began zipping his pants. Hermione let out a breath she had been holding. She did not know what to ask next. She simply observed as he did his belt and dressed himself again. She could not move from the bed. What could she do? Run away? Where? She was tired of running. Tired of hiding.

"Then what are you going to do?" she asked, puling the covers tightly against her body.

He ignored her question as he took a step closer to the bed then sneered:"I would appreciate it if you could give me some answers."

"Answers?"

"_This_," he looked around, " What the hell were you thinking, Granger?"

"I-" she did not know what to say. Why was he asking her that? Why did he care?

"Why come here if you cannot handle the job?" he asked calmly.

"I-I thought I could handle it," Hermione simply said, realizing how foolish she sounded.

Snape smirked at her before saying:"A frightened little virgin has nothing to look for in a place like this."

"How do you know-" she wanted to ask, but did not finish her sentence. It was stupid to even ask. Her behaviour told him everything.

"Did you know who I was before you came in the room?" she asked, trying to ignore the fact that she was naked in the bed, having a conversation with a Death Eater, Sevrus Snape, no less.

"I did," but before she could ask the next question, he added, "It is none of your bussiness how I knew. Be glad I was the first to find you."

"And why should I be glad?"

"Because I am here to give you a choice."

Hermione said nothing as she watched him walk over to the robes her removed at his arrival. He pulled something out of the pocket, then made his way towards her. Hermione flinched away from him, but he simply put something on the bed next to her, then stepped back.

Hermione looked down at the thing he gave her, then her head shot up in surprise.

"What is this?"

"Life on the street truly did a damage to you. Have you forgotten how money looks like?" he asked sarcastically.

She was too tired to fight with him or even defend herself against his insults.

"And what is the little bottle next to the money?" she asked, looking down again. There was a lot of money. She did not count it, but just by looking at it she could tell it was enough for her to go somewhere far away and make a new life for herself. Beside the money there was a small bottle with some kind of a black liquid inside.

"I am giving you a choice, Miss Granger," he said not showing his emotions, "A choice between life and death."

Suddenly Hermione understood everything. It all fell into place.

"It is a poison," she stated calmly, looking at the small bottle.

"Indeed. It gives an easy death to the person who drinks it. No pain. It feels like falling asleep."

Hermione did not know why was he telling her this? Why wasn't he dragging her to Voldemort? Why wasn't he torturing her? He was evil. He had to be.

"Why?" was all she could say at that moment.

She was rewarded with silence. Not that she expected a truthful answer from him anyway.

"This is the world we live in now. Make your decision," he said to her, then made his way to the doors.

Hermione could not think. She did not want to die. But she could not live anymore. Not in this world. She tried, she _truly_ did, but it was not working.

"Whatever you decide on doing, do it quickly. Do not stay at this place for too long. They will find you."

Hermione looked at him through tears in her eyes but said nothing, After a few long moments Snape nodded and left the room, closing the doors behind him. Hermione almost called for him. She did not want to be alone. She was so lonely and afraid. She needed a person she knew, even though it was Seevrus Snape. She at least knew him.

Her eyes traveled from the money to the small black bottle. She could not run anymore, she was sick of it. She did not know anyone. They were all dead or slaves. Or in Azkaban. She felt so alone. A tear slid down her cheek as she realized what almost happened tonight. She allowed her former teacher to touch her like that. She almost… Hermione could not even finish that sentence in her mind. It was too humilliating and disgusting. And why did he go that far anyway? Would he have slept with her if she had not refused? Why? He came to her with the potion in his pocket. Did he intend to give it to her? When? After he slept with her? Hermione shook her head, forcing herself not to think about it. Everything was so unclear and complicated. And could she trust him? What if the potion he gave her did not offer her an easy death? What if it was a poison to kill her slowly and painfully?

After a few moments she decided. She needed to be free again. She wanted to live without worries, without fears. A weak smile formed on her lips as she reached for the small bottle.

**A/N: Hello, guys! This is a one-shot that was in my head for some time and I needed to write it down. Hope you don't hate it!**


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